


Dean Has Been a Very Good Boy This Year

by anyothergirl415



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Food Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-10
Updated: 2009-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-26 22:43:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyothergirl415/pseuds/anyothergirl415
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean prefers his chocolate Sam flavored.  (don’t we all?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Has Been a Very Good Boy This Year

It was safe to say that sometimes, Dean scared the crap out of his brother. Not in a _holy fuck really big monster_ way, more of _holy fuck my brother might be insane_ way. Like currently he’d been wearing the same bat shit insane grin since he’d stepped in from the negative six freezing arctic known as winter in the Rocky Mountains. Sam had been waiting for at least a good ten minutes for Dean to snap and confess what was in his bag. Like, literally because he’d be clutching a bag to his chest as he walked around the room, kicking off his shoes, pulling off his socks, tugging the blinds closed, slipping off his coat.

“So… you’re not going to kill me right?” Sam asked casually, closing his laptop and pushing it across the mattress.

Dean’s eyebrows twitched in time with the corner of his lip and Sam’s stomach churned slightly. Oh yeah. Dean was definitely up to something. “Now Sammy, if I were going to kill, wouldn’t I have tied you up by now?”

This didn’t settle Sam’s nerves the way he suspected Dean thought it would. Or maybe dean knew it wouldn’t calm him at all which is why he said it. “What’s in the bag?”

“Strip,” Dean said as an answer, and sat the bag on the table in favor of shrugging out of his over shirt.

Yeah, Dean had this way of _really_ scaring the shit out of Sam sometimes. As well as turning him, body flushing with heat, skin tingling with pleasure, with one word. What was there really to say to that? Nothing. But Sam found his hands lifting to his shirt and working through the buttons, eyes following the trail of Dean’s undershirt exposing inches of flesh as he lifted it up. “N-naked?” He muttered, dropping his shoulders to let the plaid fall down his arms.

“Naked,” Dean confirmed and fucking _smirked_ like this whole damn thing was just _hilarious_.

Sam thought, maybe if he wasn’t in this situation – pushing off the mattress to slide the button free from its hold and drag the zipper down – it might have been a little funny. Also if Dean didn’t have that look in his eyes like he was a fucking _God_ and was about to prove to Sam exactly how true that fact was. For a moment Sam hesitated, thumbs hooked under denim and cotton, and watched Dean turn back to the table to retrieve that damn mystery bag. Somehow being the first one naked seemed like putting himself out there in harm’s way. And, okay, they’d fooled around a few times in the past but it was only ever in the dark – rough kisses, quick strokes, a sure fire way to relieve the tension – and they definitely never _talked_ about it.

It wasn’t dark now, hell they’d had lunch less than two hours ago, and they’d _never_ been naked when it happened. Lines. Definitely in the process of crossing them.

“You can leave your boxers on for awhile if it’ll help,” Dean chuckled and Sam realized he’d been staring at his brother’s sculpted abs, hips tilted forward slightly, for a little past too long. Sam sometimes wondered if he scared Dean as much as Dean occasionally scared him. Maybe _scared_ wasn’t really the right word. Confused? Threw for a fucking loop?

“Alright…” Sam nodded slowly and dropped the elastic attached to cotton and pushed down denim instead. He was half hard, his boxers slightly tented, and Dean’s eyes dropped and narrowed in a way that had the blood surging forth to thicken it more.

“I got you a present,” Dean murmured and shoved down his jeans, carrying the bag over to Sam’s bed and dropping down casually.

Yeah, thrown for a fucking loop, that was basically how Sam felt in regards to Dean more and more recently. “Why?”

“Dude, Christmas,” Dean scoffed as if they regularly exchanged Christmas presents. Which they didn’t. And hadn’t. For quite some time now.

“Um…” Sam frowned and watched as Dean nudged the white bag closer to him.

“Open it,” Dean urged and Sam’s eyes lifted up to catch the nerves.

God Sam really hoped it wasn’t jewelry or something that would make this whole situation really awkward. Dean had that look on his face like he got whenever he was really pleased with himself and he wanted someone to tell him he’d done good. Sam hoped he didn’t have to lie, he sucked at it.

Pulling the bag close he inhaled slowly and lifted it, tugging it open on his exhale. Inside was… a box. Blue with green leaves and rectangle, covered with fancy yellow script. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at Dean. “What is it?”

“ _Look at it_ ,” Dean rolled his eyes, scoffing as if Sam was being purposefully stupid.

Which he totally wasn’t for the record.

Sam sighed and reached in the bag to pull out the box. _Lover’s Paint Box. Edible Body Chocolates._ “Uh…” Sam swallowed, eyes lingering on the bright yellow _Kama Sutra_ between the words. “You got me… body chocolates?”

“Well, they’re kind of for both of us,” Dean shrugged and slid along the mattress until his legs rested against Sam’s.

When had Dean lost his pants? Sam hadn’t noticed that. And from this angle Sam could almost see straight through the slit in the fabric. _Jesus fuck_. So obviously Sam was asleep and this was some really weird twisted dream that wasn’t necessarily bad but most definitely good. “Both of us?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded and reached out to take the box, pulling at the side to open it. “It’s kind of a two person gift. So I’ll be the… artist. And you’ll be my canvas.”

“C-canvas?” Sam gapped and _come on_ , parrot much? It really shouldn’t be fair that Dean was breaking his brain with such simple statements, words that – out of context – would sound completely innocent. But there is definitely nothing _innocent_ about the gleam in Dean’s eyes.

Or the curve of his lips as he smiled at Sam, clearly pleased by the flush painting his young brother’s cheeks. Sam felt like he was on fire and his boxers were straining in protest against the rise of his cock. _Canvas_. “Hmm I think I’ll start with milk chocolate, I know how much you like the dark kind so you can use that on me later.”

Whatever synapses in Sam’s brain that were still communicating fizzled out and died. “O-oo…” he couldn’t form whatever word he was trying to say and Dean’s grin turned wicked. _Cocky sonofabitch_. “Naked?”

“Uh huh,” Dean nodded and slid to the side, laying the box on the night stand grasping the small paintbrush and bottle of liquid milk chocolate.

One glance from emerald eyes and Sam stumbled into action, jerking his hips off the bed to shove his boxers down and toss them across the room. His heart thundered heavily against his chest, blood rushing in his ears as he extended his body on the mattress, settling his head on a pillow.

Dean took his time – too fucking _slow_ \- unscrewing the cap off the small bottle of chocolate and settling beside Sam on the mattress. His eyes lifted and for a moment the stared at each other, sharing a small smile that said more than any words ever could between them. Then his gaze dropped once more and Sam lifted his head enough to watch the white bristles dip into smooth chocolate, watched Dean gently work the substance so none dripped on the sheets, watched a steady arm extend before a cool line of sweet trailed down his flesh, extending across three ribs in a solid line.

Heat flared up Sam’s body like someone throwing a log on the fire as Dean bent in half and dragged the flat of his tongue over the chocolate, leaving no trace outside streaked salvia. Pulling back he hummed softly and rubbed his lips together. “Sweet. No bad at all.”

“Isn’t it-“ Sam sucked in a sharp breath as chocolate circled his right nipple with the twist of the paintbrush in Dean’s grasp. “Supposed to… taste good?”

“Well, flavored lube doesn’t really taste good,” Dean shrugged and before Sam could even _process_ this information Dean was moving down and latching his mouth firm around the circle of chocolate.

Sam moaned low in his throat, pushing his chest up into the heat of Dean’s mouth. He could feel the gentle suck, the graze of teeth then Dean was once more pushing up and swirling the chocolate over his left nipple.

Every inch of Sam’s flesh tingled as Dean painted a steady path of chocolate along his flesh, down his neck, across his collar bone, over his abs, circling his belly button. And lower. Sam sucked in ragged breaths as Dean latched to his hipbone, teeth grazing along the sharp just.

Just when Sam thought Dean was _finally_ going to put his lips where he wanted them most, the heat fell away. “Wha… nono… don’t stop…” he urged, blinking rapidly as his neck muscles tightened and his head lifted up.

Dean was right _there_ , lips slicked with chocolate, and if Sam wasn’t so fucking hard he felt like he might explode the moment Dean touched his cock, he would have laughed. Instead he surged forward and smeared his lips over his brothers. Chocolate exploded across his taste buds and Sam’s tongue thrusted roughly forward, arms curling around Dean’s shoulders to pull them close.

There wasn’t not an inch of Dean’s mouth that wasn’t not layered with sweet and Sam sought to explore every inch of it until the chocolate disappeared and all that remained was _Dean_. And though his brother seemed quite content to lock lips until neither could breathe, he pulled back and hummed softly. Sam leaned forward, lips parted, ready for more but Dean’s fingers pressed firmly into his chest until the pillow once more cradled his head.

In the next moment the familiar drag of the paintbrush smeared chocolate along the inside of his thigh and Sam murmured nonsense as Dean’s tongue followed the line. The touch came on his opposite thigh next. Then in gentle strokes along his balls and Sam growled as Dean pulled the fleshy sac into his mouth and sucked with just enough pleasure to shoot sparks along Sam’s eyes.

Chocolate dribbled down the hard line of Sam’s cock and he lifted his head to stare, watching the way Dean’s fingers curled around the base and held him steady as his other hand tipped the bottle gently above the crown. It was messy and sticky and so fucking _hot_ Sam felt like he was melting into the bed. Even more so when Dean’s eyes locked with him as he slid forward and dragged his tongue over the dark substance.

“NghhDean…” Sam moaned, hips jerking up as he lost the strength to keep his head up.

The feel of Dean’s mouth over his hard flesh tightened his muscles in a rippling effect. It was all _heat_ until Dean hollowed his cheeks then it became _heat_ and _pressure_ and _holyfuckingshit_.

Sam slapped his hand down harder on Dean’s head and growled when his brother simply sank down deeper. “Gonna… gonna…” he panted the words and rolled his hips up, vaguely hoping he didn’t unintentionally make his brother gag.

Dean didn’t pull back and Sam knew his brother wasn’t stupid, he _knew_ what that word meant. So he stopped trying to hold back and clenched his eyes shut as his orgasm ripped through him, tightening his body with each rock up into Dean’s mouth.

A heavy sigh fell from Sam’s lungs as he molded down into the mattress, faint beads of sweat dripping along his brow. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled and rubbed hard across his face with his palm.

“Good?” Dean chuckled and slid up the bed, reaching up to grab the cap and twist it back over the small jar of chocolate.

Sam vaguely noted that it was more than half gone and chuckled, “you’re gonna get sick from all that?”

“Me?” Dean smirked and shook his head, sliding his finger along the side of the jar and gathering some of the chocolate that had dripped out. “Remember when I ate that whole cherry pie in one sitting?” His chocolate covered finger extended to press against Sam’s lips.

“Remember? That was like, last week,” Sam mumbled before sucking Dean’s finger in. He sucked longer than necessary, smirking and pulling back when Dean moaned. “So what was this all about?”

“Hmm… I’ve been a very good boy this year,” Dean shrugged and extended his arm to set the jar on the nightstand, rolling off the bed and heading for the bathroom.

Sam was more than aware that Dean walked with slightly spread legs and his boxers tented out before him. When his brother returned a few moments later with the now clean paintbrush, Sam smirked and held up the open jaw of dark chocolate. “Why yes Dean, you have been a _very_ good boy this year.”  



End file.
